


Love's Not Time's Fool

by peacefrog



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3232304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefrog/pseuds/peacefrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking back, Brian can’t be entirely certain when it started happening, but he’d venture to guess it had been happening all along. If he’s being honest, he can’t pinpoint the exact moment in time when he fell in love, because he had absolutely no idea that’s what he was feeling. Love was phony, fraudulent. It was pretense on the best of days. What he was feeling for Justin was earth shatteringly real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love's Not Time's Fool

Brian wasn’t bullshitting when he said he didn’t believe in love. He unequivocally believed it to be nothing but a trick played on the brain by hormones that would inevitably fade into oblivion. Propaganda being pushed by the heterosexual agenda that too many queers were buying into these days. He had seen what passed for love between his parents, and he’d sooner chop his own dick off and wear it around his neck like a talisman than wilfully buy into the notion that love existed just for the sake of getting laid.

He had lived twenty-nine years with this as his cardinal truth. On a scale of one to Santa Claus, Brian ranked love somewhere between the tooth fairy and Jesus.

That is, until Justin Taylor came along.

This kid was a persistent little fuck. Completely unwilling to accept that while they did undoubtedly have a connection, it was based on mutual attraction and carnal pleasure alone. A fuck and nothing more, albeit a spectacular one.

But where Brian went, Justin followed. _I’ve had you_ became _I want to have you again_ , and once Brian had him a second time, he figured there was no harm in having him again, and again, and again. His number one rule had always been: never fuck a trick twice. The problem was that Justin never really was just a trick. Brian would never admit it out loud, but he grew rather fond of opening his eyes in the morning and seeing tufts of blond hair on the pillow beside him.

Looking back, Brian can’t be entirely certain when it started happening, but he’d venture to guess it had been happening all along. If he’s being honest, he can’t pinpoint the exact moment in time when he fell in love, because he had absolutely no idea that’s what he was feeling. Love was phony, fraudulent. It was pretense on the best of days. What he was feeling for Justin was earth shatteringly real.

As much as Brian valued who he was on the outside, his self worth was virtually nonexistent. He wore a mask of arrogance most days, and while he knew he was physically beautiful, knew he was the best fuck in Pittsburgh, quite possibly the entire state of Pennsylvania, he didn’t think there was much on the inside worthy of anyone’s time. Young and beautiful, that’s all he had to offer. Even if he did find someone he wanted to spend his life with, he wouldn’t burden them with having to watch him grow old and diseased. With watching the last shreds of all he would ever be wither and gray.

Whatever he was feeling for Justin, he was certain of one thing. It would only lead him down the path of wanna-be hetero monotony sooner or later were he to ever vocalize it. He wouldn’t drag Justin, with his strong will and his radiant spirit, down such a path. He decided if it were love, if there were such a thing, it should not become a prison for either of them. The one thing inherent to love’s very nature should be the freedom to come and go as you please. To only stay because your heart beckons you to, not because you are under any obligation to give your life away to someone else.

And although he never would allow himself to say it, not for many years, he never failed to express it. His adoration flowed out from his hands, strong and bruising on Justin’s hips in the night. Through his tongue, licking Justin open until he was sobbing into the sheets and begging for Brian’s cock. His lips kissed reverence into the soft flesh of Justin’s neck. His whole body a confession, expressing more with Justin’s strong legs wrapped around his waist than words could ever hope to.

But it wasn’t just the fucking. There were so many other things. Tender touches in passing. The warm and steady presence of having a partner at his side. Fingers idly lacing together on a quiet evening alone. A heated glance from across the room. Laughter echoing through the loft. Smiles. So very many smiles. 

There were other things as well. Sitting bedside in a hospital room for three days uncertain if the sweet boy with the smile made of sunshine would live or die. A white scarf made scarlet by a dance Brian would never learn to forgive himself for completely. The recovery that tried to heal them both. The pain that lingered. The pain that was yet to come.

Years, so many of them. They all seem to meld together. Break-ups and make-ups. Coming and going and coming again. Brian isn’t certain exactly when he started believing that maybe love isn’t just a lie after all, but it happened all the same. He came to find that love isn’t just one thing. Love is as big or as small as you choose to make it. Love can be a prison or it can be a release. You can lose yourself in it or you can discover yourself because of it. Love only becomes a lie when you allow others to define it for you. 

Time, too, is something Brian now views entirely different. He used to measure it by simple means. Counting hours and minutes until the day would be through. Days, weeks, months. The length of his hair. The time it took for him to come six times in one evening. He now measures it in weeks until Justin’s next visit. Days until he can taste him in his mouth. Hours until they can tangle their bodies together once more. Minutes until he feels whole again. Seconds until the dull ache in his chest subsides and the warmth of being beside the man he loves takes its place.

And while time inevitably alters the body, graying hair and aging skin, it’s effect on the love shared between Brian and Justin is virtually imperceptible. 

Brian wakes one morning alone, Justin away in New York for the next several weeks, and he laughs out loud at how pathetic he sounds in his head. Here he is, Brian-fucking-Kinney, sex god of Liberty Avenue, waxing poetic to himself about the love shared between him and that brave little twink he met standing beneath a lamppost all those years ago.  


He reaches over and retrieves a small box from his bedside table. Inside are two wedding bands that should serve as a reminder of a marriage that never came to be, but Brian sees so much more. He sees the marriage that is, the one that has bound them together for the rest of their days. For countless lifetimes to come. 

He slips his ring on his finger, taking Justin’s and slipping it on his pinky as an afterthought. It’s not that he needs the reminder today, it’s been a very long time since he had even a shred of doubt about the strength of their bond, but some days he misses Justin so much he can hardly stand it. 

He usually slips the rings on late at night when he’s had too much to drink, eternally bound or not, the longing when they are apart is consistent in its ability to turn into some sharp thing prodding at the very center of him. But today it’s not so much an ache as it is a hope blossoming in his bloodstream. 

He looks down at the bands and they are a promise. A glimpse into the future that says no matter the distance, Justin will always find his way back home. That love is not a lie, it is the truth he has found within himself and the strength he gains from giving of himself so wholly. 

These rings are usually reserved for dark, private moments alone. Today they’re something more. He slips out of bed and prepares for his day. He keeps the rings on all day at the office, their weight on his fingers feeling like Justin thrumming inside him. The seconds slipping through time to a place where they will be together once more.


End file.
